Being Owned
by S2MoonFairy
Summary: He doesn't like being owned. The thought is appaling, that they live in a time and era where you either had to be owned or and owner to survive.
1. Chapter 1

**The genre will change...I hope. Would like to try somehting comedy-ish. Could b an epic fail tho...**

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><p>A young man dressed in an immaculate suit stepped out of an elaborate limousine and walked confidently into the building before him. The leather shoes he wore stepped over the threshold into the marble entrance of the gloomy house. He approached a desk in the center of the small, morbid room where a young woman sat wearing an elegant dress and classy boots.<p>

"Can I help you?" she asked as she observed the man from behind her spectacles.

"Yes, I'm here to make a purchase. Male. Under 20. Small." His voice was even, low. He spoke clearly but still barely audibly. The woman's eyes widened slightly at the request but she scribbled something down and gave him the piece of paper.

"Door on the left. A guide will show you to the room." She watched the man disappear through the door, stunned that somebody like him would come to a place like this.

The wealthy youngster informed the dirty, old guide of his specifications and was led down a few more hallways, all adorned with pricey paintings and with expensive marble floors.

"We got four of 'em. Nasty little buggers." The guide grunted out as they rounded a corner. "'ere we are. Take your pick."

The young man frowned as he saw the products. He didn't like being here, but it was necessary. Behind bars and a glass window, sat three young boys. Each in worse condition than the last. One had long red hair and elaborate tattoos, he was skinny and had hollowed cheeks, though he was rather tall. Another had short black hair, he had small frame which only served to make him look more sickly than he should. The last boy in the chamber looked better than the others, though he had more visible scars, his hair also short and dark, a single tattoo visible on his cheek, more running around his neck and arms. He hadn't been here long.

"You said there were four. I only see three. Where's the other?" The velvety voice filled the air and all three captives looked up at him in awe. None of the other customers had questioned their last cell mate's absence.

"Oh, of course. Er- sorry 'bout that." The old man pressed a button to the right of the chamber and a hidden cave was revealed. "'Ere he is. He's horrid though. Dun know how to listen to rules, this one. Nasty little bugger. Dun know any discipline. Gets a beat'n regularly." The horrid man seemed disgusted at the mere presence of the tiny young boy that barely managed to scramble out of the tomb. He was terrifyingly small and looked like damaged porcelain, his skin equally pale, his hair almost the same color. The only color on the boy was in the cuts and bruises that littered his limbs and exposed torso.

"Open it." The young man had spoken directly to the guide and his tone had prohibited defiance. He'd found that he often had that effect on people, when he really wanted to. The guide did as told, albeit a bit hesitantly. Soon, the glass and metal bars had been removed and the four inmates looked positively baffled. "Leave." Again, he had spoken to the guide who looked even more skeptical but did as told.

"Excellent. Now, which of you is Hitsugaya Toshiro?" Three shocked faces turned to the addressed boy as the pale, abused boy's eyes widen remarkably. "You then? Great, you're coming with me. You guys are Renji, Hanataro and Shuhei right?" Again, their eyes widened at his knowledge of their names. "Unfortunately, it'll look suspicious if I take all of you at once, but I'll send some one. Think you can last a while longer?" Still completely dumbfounded, they nodded their heads, incredulous at the promise just made. He smiled gently at each of them in turn.

"Here, I'll leave these. Don't let the guards catch you with them though." He lay down a packet of dried fruits and some chocolate in the space between them. "Mind if I check something quickly?"

Gaining no response, he walks up to the redhead first. Slowly, noticing the boy cringe away from him, he lay his hand against Renji's forehead. He quickly proceeded to check vitals and felt for damaged bones. Clearing the test, Renji gets a piece of chocolate in his hands and looks on, baffled at the young buyer's gentle touch. The small boy with dark hair, Hanataro, gets the same treatment and also passes. Next, the man moves on to Shuhei, the bruised young boy. The buyer finds that this boy has some bad injuries that could do with treatment. Treatment that isn't available. He settles for the next best thing and performs basic first aid, drawing pained gasps from his patient. He makes sure not to leave any visible signs of care, knowing from past experience that this would greatly upset the guards and result in further mistreatment.

"Come on kid." He reaches for the pale young boy and lifts him off the ground. "I know it's shit here, but I'm working on it. Please be patient." He stoops to a low bow, pleading with the boys that have to stay. Their eyes stretch wide again, disbelieving and unused to such shows of….of what? Equality?

He leaves the room, dragging the scantily dressed young, fragile boy behind him. When they get to the corridor, they find the guide waiting for them.

"Finally done are ye?" He looks resentful at having to wait outside, at not knowing what went on in the chamber.

"Yes, I've chosen this one." The boy is yanked forward and shown to the guide.

"Ya sure? He's a nasty one he is."

"Yes, you've told me so. I do believe this is the third time. Now, shall I show myself out or will you be accompanying us?" His words were liquid fire, terrifying and harsh. The guide scrambled to lead them out of the house's maze.

They reached the front hall relatively quickly and the young man paid for his purchase. All the while he was icy and an air of hostility aimed directly at the receptionist and guide filled the small space. The pale boy clad in nothing but a pair of shorts felt the wrath of his 'owner' and feared what would happen to him, though he would never voice these fears. Would he be used and abused, a replaceable toy, or would he be left in a corner and only be brought out for special occasions? These questions demanded answers. Answers he'd be sure to get when they stepped out of the despicable 'shop'.

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><p><strong>So, I know who the owner is...I think. Any thoughts? Review plz! :) <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

Srry it took so long!

Enjoy :P

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><p>"So what now? You gonna take me home and fuck me like the rest of them?" Cold words shattered the quiet that had settled over the two occupants of the expansive limousine.<p>

The fragile boy who spoke the words stared on out of the window, not even sparing the shocked man next to him a glance. His owner's surprise didn't last long and he answered coolly, his voice liquid velvet.

"No, I won't do that." He shifted slightly in the polished leather seat and removed his blazer.

"What, can't wait that long?" The words remained indifferent, but the subtle hints of fear were evident. He had shifted away from the man and his arms had come to clutch his bare torso defensively.

"Lean forward." Gentle words caressed the air.

"Fuck no. Why should I?" Ice pierced the serenity.

The addressee remained calm and patient, leaning forward slowly to place a hand on the boy before him. A gentle touch landed on the boy's shoulder, who in turn flinched as if he'd been burned. His expression softened as he observed the slender body, noticing deep scars and recent gashes stretched across the tiny frame. Slowly and carefully he laid the jacket over the boy's shoulders and returned to his side of the car, keeping his eyes glued to the younger's expression. A moment of silence passed before the owner spoke again.

"How old are you?" The words were tranquil as they reached the other's ears.

"Like you care."

"I do, I'd like to know how old you are."

"What, can't screw me unless I'm eighteen? You're in luck then. I'm legal." A look that crossed between confusion and amusement crossed the owner's features at the blunt words.

"That's odd. You're eighteen?"

"Yeah, got a problem with that? Too late now. I'm non refundable."

"No, it's just...medically, you appear much younger."

"Oh, sure. Be a complete ass and bring my height into this." His arms were still folded across his torso below the jacket though their defensive grip loosened slightly as he let his guard down.

"Not just your height but your entire bone structure. Even your skin doesn't look like that of an eighteen year old." Pure confusion was evident in the man's tone. He glanced out of the window and a smile spread across his face. "We're here."

The boy in the car glanced out of the window and his jaw slackened considerably at what he saw. A large farmhouse stood in the middle of an empty plot. It was neither elaborate nor understated. The building looked aged and worn out, as if it would collapse at any moment.

"You wear expensive suits and drive around in a fucking limo and this is the shit-hole you bring me to?" The boy was incredulous and it showed clearly in his voice.

Without a word, the owner steps out of the car and tugs at the younger's arm to get him to follow. Wordlessly they walk to the front door, the fragile boy's anticipation growing with each step. When they finally arrive a loud bang and a sudden thud startles the young boy and he stares on wide-eyed as a busty blonde comes bounding out of the house, straight onto his owner, gripping him like a vice receiving numerous protests from the young man.

"You look so good in your suit! You really should wear it more often. I mean, you're a looker in your slops, but a suit makes heads turn!" A torrent of words came gushing from the vibrant woman, the man she spoke to pressed firmly into her cleavage.

"Thanks Rangiku-san, can you let me go though? I can't breathe." The words were calm and humor was evident in the man's tone.

"I told you long ago to drop the -san. You are, technically, my owner. Such formalities aren't necessary." The pale boy, who had stood watching the scene unfold with a mixture of terror and bewilderment, gasped at the revelation, his eyes opening wide and his jaw dropping open. "Speaking of which! This must be the new recruit. What's your name?" She asked, but receiving no answer she walked up to him for a closer observation. He visibly cringed away from her, almost curling into a ball on the spot.

"Rangiku-san, this is Toushiro. He'll be here for a while, so please make him comfortable." The owner had spoken, his voice calm and commanding. "If you don't mind, could I take him to his room?" She merely nodded. The owner rarely used that tone on any of the staff.

He took hold of the young boy's shoulder and led him indoors. There was no entrance hall and they walked straight into the living room, a large space with cosy couches and pillows scattered all over. There was no real color scheme and so various hues assaulted their vision. From there, they went up the stairs situated in the back of the room and reached a long corridor. Many doors were placed along the passage way, each a different color, contrasting remarkably with the plain white walls.

The small boy was led down the hall right to the end. Here they stopped before the only plain door in the house. The young man opened the door and coaxed the boy into the room. It had plain white walls, adorned only by a few shelves and a amateur painting that cost almost nothing. It housed a single bed an angular desk. A door in the room led to a small bathroom.

"Sit down." The boy did as told, expecting nothing but the worst.

His owner walked over to him slowly and sat next to him on the bed.

"I know you have no reason to, but believe me when I tell you I won't hurt you. I won't violate or assault you."

"Look, I don't give a shit, okay. Do your worst, jackass." With this, the boy turned his back to his owner and crossed his arms around his middle defensively. A sigh sounded behind him and the weight on the bed shifted.

A few moments later, he felt the coat being removed from his shoulders and fear clawed at his chest. A warm cloth was pressed against the gashes on his back and the boy inhaled sharply through his teeth at the sting. The cloth wiped down his entire back, stopping to scrub softly at the blood that wouldn't come off.

"Turn around." A whisper filled the room.

"Fuck off." The boy still sat clutching at his chest, more and more terror seeping through his thoughts. Instead of lash out like most people would, the owner merely walked around the bruised body and gave the child's front the same treatment, somehow managing to coax the slender arms away.

Instead of asking this time, the man simply guided the boy to stand up and eased the shabby shorts from around the tiny waist. He proceeded to clean the boy's legs and arms which were also covered in scratches and cuts.

"Come here." He spoke as he walked towards the small en suite bathroom. The boy remained standing next to the bed, refusing to move an inch. Another sigh escaped the taller's lips and he walked back across the room to the body. Before the boy could process what was happening, he had been lifted effortlessly off the ground and was cradled in his owner's arms.

"Put me down!" He raised his fists and pounded against his captor's chest. "Asshole! Put me the fuck down!"

Completely ignoring the meager protests coming from the fragile being in his arms, he continued towards the bathroom. He approached the bath and lowered the frame into the hot water that had been run for the room's occupant.

"Too hot?" He asked, his tone hushed and soothing to most ears.

"The fuck is this! I'm not playing along with any of your sick kinks!" He exclaimed, his tone harsh and unforgiving.

"Take your time. Shout if you need anything." And with that, the young man who now owned Hitsugaya Toshiro left the room, leaving the young boy to his very, very confused thoughts.

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><p>Review.<p>

Please?


	3. Chapter 3

Enjoy :P

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><p>Toshiro stirred softly the next morning and felt the pillow under his head give way, the duvet wrapped snugly around him crinkle and the pyjamas he wore slither on his skin. The reality of the situation soon dawned on him and he startled awake, suddenly sitting bolt upright and wide awake. He had no recollection of getting out of the bath. None at all. That jerk must have drugged him or something!<p>

He yanked the covers back and moved to stand up, glancing briefly to the right. He caught the scream that had bubbled in his throat before it could come out. A bright shock of color had caught his eye. A man was sat by the window of his room, a man who resembled his owner uncannily. Toshiro took the time to look at the handsome figure splayed in the desk chair.

Long legs covered in loose jeans stretched from the table to the hips sat on the edge of the seat. A snug t-shirt stretched over a chiseled chest and an intricate, gothic tattoo could be seen sneaking down the man's right arm, the print on his shirt matching it perfectly. The body's head was thrown back, resting comfortably on the seat back. The expression on the face was completely placid, the embodiment of peace. His hair seemed almost blonde in the light streaming through the window.

Toshiro sat entranced by this person's effortless elegance and tranquility, his head tipped slightly to the side and his mouth gently agape.

"Surprising, isn't it. He doesn't look remotely like that when he's awake." A feminine voice in the doorway startled the young boy and he whipped round to see the woman who had attacked the owner yesterday. "Let him sleep, it's been ages since I've seen him look so worriless." The boy merely nodded in affirmation of the request and the woman came to sit next to him on the bed.

They sat in absolute silence for a while before the woman broke it again.

"You hungry?" she asked, her tone light and conversational. At the mention of food Toshiro became absolutely ravenous and his stomach let out a loud grumbling sound. She merely smiled and beckoned him to follow her. They exited the room and went down the stairs. Instead of turning into the sitting room, they went to a large room at the back of the house that caused Toshiro's jaw to drop.

Stainless steel countertops were adorned with snacks and tidbits, white cupboards lined the walls and contrasted with the black tile. The island in the middle held a large stove and under it an oven. The room looked spotless and lived in at the same tie, almost something out of a home-deco ad. In the middle of the spacious kitchen stood a young brunette, her back facing the door.

"Hey Yuzu! What are you making?" The joyful woman that had entered asked.

"Oh! Hi Rangiku-san! Uhm, I was just gonna make a few sandwiches for the lunch group." She rambled on, not once looking in their direction, her hands working frantically on the counter before her.

"Great! This is Toshiro. He's the new kid." At these words, the young girl raised her eyes and looked at the tiny frame. Instantly, a grin splayed across her face and she ran to where he stood, grabbing hold of his hands and turning him in circles.

"He's so cute! I can't wait to get busy! Imagine how good he'd look if we put ribbons in his hair!" She poked and prodded at the boy as the busty woman next to her joined in. This might have gone on for an hour or a minute, time was lost as Toshiro took in the conversation panning out before him, more and more fear clawing at his chest. What had he gotten into?

"Leave the kid alone, you're scaring him." A bored voice carried from the door as a dark haired girl stepped in, completely covered in mud. She wore a t-shirt and shorts, simple sport attire.

"Eh, but we're having so much fun~!" The women wailed, but as they turned and surveyed the boy's expression they decided to leave him be. For now at least.

Toshiro was guided to sit in a chair as the three other people currently in the kitchen set to work on preparing the sandwiches. The boy's stomach growled as the aromas around him invaded his senses. Eventually, silence fell on the group and a pleasant sensation filled the room.

"You know, Ichigo can be pretty scary sometimes." Rangiku-san broke the moment. She seemed to be talking to no one in particular.

"Yeah, he's an idiot like that." Karin responded.

"Ichi-nii menas well." Yuzu piped up.

"I believe he is simply idiotic. It's a marvel that he is where he is in society's food chain. I can't fathom it. Where is the fool anyways?" A young man clad in a suit with glasses and perfectly groomed hair had glided into the room.

"It's rude to speak of your owner like that Ishida-kun. He's still sleeping." Rangiku-san had spoken, her tone laced with humor.

"Hm. I need to discuss this month's budget. I'm afraid he'll have to take another offer, if he wants to keep this place running." He walked to the room and sat at one of the stools around the counter. "Honestly, that somebody like him runs this place. Ridiculous. He's so irresponsible." The monologue seemed to carry on forever until Rangiku-san managed to get him to quiet down with a sandwich.

Through all this, Toshiro sat in complete silence, listening to the musings of the people in the room. A light banter had filled the room as more people began to file in. A large, silent man had entered dressed in a t-shirt and slacks, his presence overpowering. A few others had all gathered around for the sandwiches that had been made.

The banter went on for a while, each person either mocking or bad-mouthing this Ichigo guy. A loud splash echoed from outside and all heads turned to the window. Through it, a young man could be seen, his arms and legs impossibly long as he glided gracefully across the pool. A chain looked to be wrapped around his right arm as it stretched forward and propelled the lean body forward.

The entire room sat mesmerized at the sight of the swimmer that had evaded them this morning.

"Whoa. Haven't seen him swim in ages." A voice in the room spoke.

"Yeah, I'd forgotten how incredible he is when he does a sport." Another said.

The man in the pool swam 20 laps, the crowd that had gathered in the kitchen completely silent for the whole time, eyes fixed on the stretch of skin and ripple of water seen through the window. The athlete went to lift himself from the water, his back turned to the audience that had gathered.

Now that he was out of the water, Toshiro could see that the chain he saw before was in fact a tattoo. It clawed it's way from his wrist, winding round his arm to his shoulder where it coiled and dropped down his back. He graced his spectators with one last stretch before he lifted a towel strewn haphazardly on the ground and walked back to the house, seemingly oblivious to the eyes that stared after him.

Instantly, the chatter that had completely vanished from the kitchen started up again, this time revolving around a completely different topic. The voices now spoke of their owner in a reverent manner, respect and understanding clear in their tones.

"Ichigo! Why didn't you come say g'morning?" Rangiku-san exclaimed when she caught a flash of orange flit past the door. The owner back pedaled and grinned as he looked over the commotion in the kitchen.

"Cuz. It seemed like you guys were getting on well enough. Besides, I needed that." He entered the already over-crowded room and made his way to the near empty sandwich platter. He lifted a peculiarly blue piece of bread to his mouth and turned to leave again. "Oh, Ishida, there's something I've got lined up that should straighten out the cash issue you were talking about. I'm gonna send you out again soon." He spoke matter-of-factly, leaving no room for argument.

"What bout Shiro-chan?" A young brunette asked, her hair tied back neatly and her clothes perfectly pressed.

"My door's open." The vibrant man stated as he left the cosy room, a gentle smile aimed at the new inhabitant of the house.

"The fuck? How long you been here kid?" A boisterous voice proclaimed. When Toshiro looked to see who it had come from he looked straight into a face that sent an unpleasant ice coursing through his veins. The face was friendly at first, but you could see malice hidden under the smile he had on his face.

"Don't you twat! You're scaring him. Honestly, you're worse than a bull in a china shop! Don't pay attention to this idiot. I'll walk you to Ichigo's room." The young brunette stated as she grabbed hold of Toshiro's arm and guided him out of the kitchen to the staircase.

Toshiro sighed as he was dragged along, the revelation of what was about to happen dawning on him in staggering waves. The tiny fraction of hope he had felt while sat with the group around the kitchen table instantly fizzling away.

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><p>Review. Please?<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**So, yeah. Here it is. Hope u like it. **

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><p>Toshiro felt ice clawing at his chest. His heart was pounding and his mind was reeling. True, he put up a nonchalant persona, but he was terrified of what would happen to him when he went through the doors that stood before him. In his life, he had experienced pain that no human being should ever have to. He had survived the destruction of his home, the loss of his best friend and the mutilation of his body. The result was the cold hearted block of ice he had become. He had completely forgotten how to show any emotion other than rage, his features wouldn't even bend into a smile anymore. Pain no longer bothered him as the only feeling he could feel was fear.<p>

Twisted thoughts ran through his mind as his guide turned the silver knob on the pitch black double doors. They opened to reveal a large room, the far wall made of glass allowing light to grace the dark walls. The furniture was minimal, a rusted steel desk with a glass top, a futon splayed out on the ground, a plain white cupboard and a light blue shaggy rug in the center. A few abstract paintings graced the wall and a stainless steel shelf housed a series of trophies, each of a different sport. The young man, Ichigo, stood before his cupboard and was busy pulling a shirt over his head when he noticed his visitors.

"Oh, hey Hinamori-san. Thanks for bringing him." The young man said as he walked towards his guests.

"Honestly, you and your -san. Oh well, I gotta get back to work. Good luck Shiro!" The pale young boy twitched slightly at the annoying nickname he had been given and stiffened when he realized he would be left alone with the man that had bought him.

"Sure thing." He said with a smile and beckoned the youngster to take a seat in the cosy desk chair. Toshiro felt himself walk towards the stool before he could stop himself and plunked down helplessly, expecting nothing but the worst. Again.

"Relax, I told you yesterday didn't I? I won't harm you. Promise." A small smile graced his lips and Toshiro found himself bedazzled. The orange-head scuttled around the room for a short while longer before drawing up a stool and sitting down next to Toshiro. He reached out slowly and began his examination, mindful of every wince and flinch the short boy made. "Was I the first person to buy you?" The man asked and caught the slight boy of guard.

"Uhm, no. I've been bought and sold twice. You're my third owner." The words were plainly stated, empty syllables hanging in the air.

"Oh. Well, where are you originally from, then?" Came the response. Toshiro was slightly puzzled by the questions he was being asked but answered them all none the less.

"A town just outside Osaka."

"Makes sense. How'd you end up here? Who brought you?" The question was light hearted but Toshiro curled in defensively at the memory.

"My first 'owner' had me shipped." A dry chuckle escaped his lips. "I never even knew the bastard's name." A puzzled look crossed Ichigo's face at the remark but he continued on with the easy questions, the more complicated stuff could wait.

"Did you know who the second one was?"

"Psh, yeah. A hot-shot business man. He bought me from the dump the first one threw me to when he was done with me. He wasn't much better though."

They carried on for some time, each question revealing a touch of the pale boy's history. When Ichigo had asked all he had to ask and had finished poking and prodding his property he sat back and smiled at the young boy before him.

"So, is there anything you'd like to ask me? I'll answer as best I can." Toshiro sat in silence for a second before firing questions away.

"What's your full name?"

"Kuroskai Ichigo." The teen's eyes bugged out slightly at the name but he was determined to ask about anything and everything.

"What do you do?"

"This and that. A bit of everything really. Quite often sport-related. I take one-off contracts."

"Who were all those people downstairs?"

"Well, legally, I own them. Except for Karin and Yuzu. They're my sisters. We're all pretty good friends though and they all have their own jobs outside the house."

Toshiro had officially been shocked into silence. There were at least twenty people downstairs, and not cheap ones either. Most of them were athletic and below their 'expiration date'.

"How the fuck can you afford the taxes on all those people, never mind actually having bought them in the first place? Did daddy-dearest leave you some mega-ass fortune or something?" A smile graced Ichigo's lips again and Toshiro found himself bedazzled. Again.

"Hell no, my dad's too stingy to spare me ten cents, there's no way he'd give me enough to keep this place running." He looked to the shelf on the wall above them, then turned back to the teen. "I told you, I do bits and bobs. Most of which are rather high-paying."

A moment of silence passed before Toshiro continued with his string of questions. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-six."

"And you've accumulated enough money to pay for this house, pay for these people and pay their taxes?" A small nod followed. "Completely by yourself, whit no external funding?" Another nod. Toshiro's jaw slackened and his eyes widened marginally. Who the hell was this guy?

"I'm glad to see you relaxed." Kurosaki's soft voice twirled around the pale boy's head and registered in his mind. Immediately, realizing he had slipped up, he put all defenses up again and scowled threateningly at the man before him. A growl made it's way to his throat but he stopped himself before it made a sound. This man didn't warrant such a sound. Yet. The orange-head sighed slightly at the renewed defenses. "Damn. Should have known not to tell you." A tiny smile tugged at his lips as he leant back in his chair.

A knock at the door interrupted the slim boy who had been about to speak.

"'Sup Ishida?" Said man walked in through the door and smiled slightly at the youngest in the room, noting the parted lips and startled expression. The door had been closed. There was no way for Ichigo to know who had been at the door.

"Sorry to intrude, but what job did you say you were taking? We're entering the red-zone financially. We'll need about half a salary check by the end of the week." The young man held an air of business around him, no doubt he was a valuable asset, no matter what his profession was.

The man being addressed sank slightly before standing and walking to the futon. Raising a phone that lay on the floor next to it to eye-level, he flicked at a button a few times and made a call. Once he had hung up he looked to Ishida and nodded.

"Three by Friday morning. That okay?" The stern man nodded and retreated from the room.

"How much is a paycheck?" Toshiro asked, curiosity gnawing at him regarding the matter that had just gone down.

"Five hundred." Seeing the puzzled look on the boy's face, he added "Thousand."

"And you're only getting three thousand? How is that okay?" The elder smiled slightly and explained.

"I'm getting three check's worth in cash." Again, the boy's jaw dropped.

"The fuck? That's 1.5 mil! Where the fuck you gonna get that kinda cash in three days!"

"Well, an agent's been pestering me for a while now. If I go for a few sport shoots tomorrow and the day after, and add my actual salary...let's just say it adds up."

"I thought you said you didn't get a salary."

"I like people so I coach and tutor. Doesn't bring in much cash though." He smiled and sat down across the boy, practically watching the gears in his head turning. "You'll learn, don't worry. You're a bright kid." He reached and ruffled the youngster's hair, delighting in the innocent, disgruntled look he got in return. The barrier had dropped again.

"Speaking of which, did you ever go to school?" The taller asked.

"Till I became part of the 'system', yeah. I've been reading books and stuff at the owner's houses."

"Good. Anything specific that interests you?" A short silence followed the question as the addressee contemplated the answer.

"I...I'm not sure." He looked away from the man before him and laced his arms around his body, suddenly feeling incredibly insecure, a sentiment he was far too familiar with.

"Don't worry 'bout it. Come on, I'll show you 'round." Compassionate brown orbs surveyed the sudden change in attitude and the tall figure rose to his feet again, reaching out to the frail form still seated.

Toshiro stood but ignored the hand outstretched to him, walking towards the door instead. A small grin graced the taller's lips and he followed the form through the door, quickly catching up and sending

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><p><strong>Please tell me what you think. I've got the next chapter pretty much planned out but I'm not quite sure what to do after that. If I don't get any ideas, the story's just gonna hang there, so any ideas, no matter how insane, would be appreciated. <strong>

Thanks.

**Review? I'll send you cookies :D **


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